The Next Level
by Helen C
Summary: It took Ryan four years to realize that Seth wasn't a woman—a kind of follow up to avoidingnemo's Alone Again. A SethRyan story.


Title : The Next Level

Author : Helen C.

Rating : I've never been good at rating stuff, so, R, I guess.

Summary : It took Ryan four years to realize that Seth wasn't a woman.

Spoilers : The story goes AU after _The Rainy Day Women,_ so everything up to that point is fair game.

Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's notes : This is kind of a follow-up to avoidingnemo's _Alone Again; _it starts immediately after _Alone Again— _www dot fanfiction dot net slash s slash 2314465 slash 1 slash_—_stops, and goes on from there. Many thanks to avoidingnemo, whose story inspired me to write this, and who was nice enough to allow me to post it.

Eternal gratitude to Joey51 for her help on this!

* * *

**The Next Level**

Helen

When a puppy, a female puppy, walked out on him, Ryan decided that he'd had enough. That puppy was the last straw; it joined Dawn, Theresa, Marissa and Lindsay on the long list of people who had left Ryan. As the list was growing longer by the year, he decided to take some time off.

When he next saw Seth that day, Ryan told him that he was officially off the market, until further notice.

He was done with women. All of them, except Kirsten—and no, not that way. Ew.

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When Luke heard about Ryan's resolution, during Spring Break, he laughed for a while. Then, finally convinced that Ryan was serious, Luke, who had definitely become more tolerant, asked Ryan what he thought about homosexuality—both as a concept and for himself.

Ryan spat out a mouthful of water, before sharing a good laugh with Luke.

Seth looked at Ryan strangely, but then, when wasn't Seth strange?

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It took Ryan four years to realize that Seth wasn't a woman—and, okay, put like that, it might make Ryan's observation skills look a little ridiculous.

But Ryan had excuses.

He stayed "off the market" until graduation. On graduation night, he got drunk and slept with Marissa. Why that had seemed like a good idea was a total mystery. Their break-up, during the following summer, was even messier than the previous two.

Bad, bad idea.

Ryan spent the next three years without a regular girlfriend. He was married to his books, to his studies, and to the concept of one-night-stand.

Seth called him on it once, and Ryan just said, "Women leave me and I'm tired of being left." Seth, surprisingly, left it at that.

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During their last year in college, Ryan's relationship with Seth became more strained, for some indiscernible reason.

Indiscernible, until Ryan talked to Luke, who said, "Oh, for fuck's sake, Ryan, he's gay, and he's waiting for you to wake up."

"But, but, but," Ryan stammered.

"But what?"

"There's no way Seth is…"

"Why not?" Luke asked.

Ryan eyed him suspiciously. "How would you know?"

Luke smiled. "He knows the secret handshake. And we shook hands, if you know what I mean."

Ryan pinched himself to check that he was still awake.

Yup.

Okay, there went the most likely explanation.

Perhaps…perhaps he had landed in an alternate dimension? One where everyone was gay? These things happened all the time on TV, and wasn't it said that every story had a basis in truth?

His next objection was even more obvious. "He's like my brother! This is, like, incest or something."

"Like that's ever stopped anyone in Newport," Luke shot back. Which, Ryan had to admit, was a valid point. When in Rome…

Luke wasn't finished demolishing Ryan's objections. "And you're not even related by blood." He took a healthy swallow of his beer. "Jeez, Ryan, when did you turn into such a prude?"

Ryan bit back the automatic, "Around the same time you became a fucking matchmaker." It would have been undeserved, and Ryan had to admit that Luke's question was pertinent, because he didn't remember being so conservative when he was a teenager.

"Think about it," Luke said.

Ryan did.

A lot.

And suddenly, some odd things began to make more sense.

Why Seth gritted his teeth every time Ryan told him about his girlfriend _du jour_.

Why Seth had gone to college in California instead of New York, as Sandy had hoped.

Why Seth had broken up with Summer and never seemed to date anyone.

Why, as years went by, Summer became increasingly annoyed with Ryan's addiction to meaningless fucks.

God, had Ryan really sunk so low that he couldn't even notice when his best friend wanted to get into his pants?

Had he truly been so absorbed in his studies? Had he been so out of touch with Life itself?

Feeling as if someone had opened his skull and prodded at his brain with a spoon, in the grand tradition of the making of scrambled eggs, Ryan got to his feet, and rushed to the bathroom.

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"Luke told you?" Seth yelped, in a high-pitched voice that would have caused Ryan to tease him to death, once upon a time—before everything got complicated. Well, more complicated.

"Uh huh."

Seth paced. Ruffled his hair. Sat down. Got up. Paced. Took a bottle of water on the table. Looked at said bottle for thirteen seconds—Ryan counted—before putting it down. Paced, paced and paced some more. All of that without saying a word.

"Oh," Seth finally said.

Ryan had hoped for something more… Something less… Well, something else. But, clearly, Seth did better with words when they came out of his mouth unchecked.

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Hm."

"Yeah."

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"Okay," Seth said, after he and Ryan had spent two weeks not looking at each other in the eyes. "I'm, I'm taking a stand."

He was clearly drunk, which didn't matter to Ryan, because perhaps drunkenness had brought answers to Seth. "Okay," he said, a little hopeful.

"I'm tired of the see and wait."

"Wait and see," Ryan corrected, suddenly worried. He didn't mind Seth talking, had been hoping for just that, but if Seth was too drunk to be articulate, they had a problem. Well, another problem.

"Whatever, Mister Bookworm. Sheesh." Seth paced a little. "Where was I?"

Ryan looked around, found a bottle of vodka, sat down with it, and settled in for a long night.

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"People leave me, I told you," Ryan insisted.

"No, you said that women leave you."

"Yeah, well…they do."

"I'm not a woman! No matter what Luke said."

Ryan bit back a grin. Remembered Seth crying during a chick movie, Seth unable to hammer a nail, Seth and his plastic horse. And also, Seth in a tux, Seth on his boat, Seth in his swim trunks. His tight swim trunks. "Okay," Ryan allowed. "I… Yes, you're not a woman. Clearly."

On that, they could agree.

"And did any man ever leave you?"

Ryan did a quick mental check. Trey was still around. As were Sandy, Seth and Luke. Okay, the four men he had ever allowed himself to depend on were still there.

That still didn't mean…

Or did it?

Damn, he was too thing for this kind of drunk.

Or was he?

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In the end, Luke and Summer came through for them. Luke planned, Summer executed.

Summer invited both Ryan and Seth to her place, ordered pizza, carefully didn't rent any DVD. She said she needed something from her neighbor. She left the apartment; there was the sound of the key turning in the lock, and a yelled, "Work it out. Tonight!"

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They did. After a lot of yelling, cursing, and generally damning Summer to the tenth level of hell.

After a lot of self-denial—

"I never really entertained the possibility before. With a guy."

"You've had two weeks to entertain, now."

—some awkwardness—

"But isn't it going to, you know, kill our friendship?"

"Ryan, it's been a long time since you've gone from the status of friend to… Er…"

—a few unfortunate words—

"…potential boyfriend."

"God, don't say that."

"Significant other?"

…

"Partner?"

…

"Ryan?"

"God, whatever."

—and a lot of groans, blushes and other inconveniences, they took their relationship to the next level.

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Much, much later, Seth said, "I wonder what Summer will say when she finds out we did it in her bed."

"She'll say 'ew,'" Ryan replied.

They both snickered.

"You're quite good," Seth allowed after a while.

"Thanks."

"Better than I expected, it being your first time with a guy."

…

"Ryan?"

…

"Ryan?"

"What happens in Chino stays in Chino," Ryan said, feeling an absurd urge to crawl under the bed, put his pillow over his head and not come back out. Because, what happened in Chino, well, stayed in Chino. Especially if it was an awkward, messy, embarrassing experience, involving Eddie, beer, tequila and public nudity. And, dear God, pictures. With friends like Arturo, who needed enemies?

"No way!" Seth said.

And Ryan knew all too well that it was less an expression of disbelief than Seth's promise that he would never let it go. Not until he heard the full story. And drew diagrams, and dissected every word, every movement. And saw the pictures.

Ryan was officially screwed, and this time, not in a good way.

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There was a note slipped under the door when they left the bedroom.

"_Change the sheets. Rage blackouts, remember?_"

Ryan changed the sheets. Seth admired his technique and offered some helpful criticism. Ryan threw a pillow at Seth. Seth retaliated in kind. It was just like old times.

Then, the pillow fight lead to another, more challenging activity. It was less like old times.

But still, Ryan thought, staring at the ceiling while Seth showered, he could easily get used to this.

And, feeling adventurous, he boldly went where he had never gone before, and joined Seth under the shower.

END


End file.
